


On the pine-tree bedspread

by Kuroihana



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Cruelty, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Slavery, Suffering, not sure what the ending will be, servitude
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 05:46:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5654635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuroihana/pseuds/Kuroihana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lana Reeves is a young therapist, whose life changes due to a curious encounter one evening at the park.<br/>It is a story of how she comes to terms with her own self and grows through helping a person in need.<br/>The story will have some graphic and cruel elements, trigger warnings for torture, rape recovery apply.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Epilogue

> _The essence of greatness is neglect of the self._
> 
> _James Anthony Froude_
> 
>  

One day you suddenly realise that the extent of human atrocity is far beyond what you hear on the news or read in the papers; that just as human genius human cruelty is only restricted by one thing - imagination.

This is what she realised that day when she first saw ‘it’, and the thoughts and the feelings she had - they were somehow dimmed as she was not really capable at that moment to actually process anything at a conscious level.

The only thing pounding her mind was the constant blinking of the police lights and occasional snapping of the onlookers’ phone cameras.

‘Make way, make way! Come one, people - it is a crime scene.’ - an older looking police officer was trying to hush the crowd and make room for his partners, who were coming in with yellow tape and grim faces.

She couldn’t really move a muscle, not until a younger police officer took her by the shoulders and accompanied her to a nearby bench and sat her there.

‘Are you okay, M’am?’, he asked mechanically and she shook her head ‘Yes’.

‘I will ask one of the medics to check you out, once these guys arrive, ok?’ She nodded again.

He left then; the crowd wouldn’t dissipate and detectives needed room to do their detecting.

She closed her eyes, and finally unclenched her hand holding the phone so tightly that when she relaxed it, she felt the pins and needles sensation all along the arm. She was the one who called the police, but now she had somehow started doubting whether she could have really done it. She had never seen so much blood in her life. Well, not in real life that is, in movies - sure - but not so close that she smelled the iron, which mixed in with the smell of wet autumn leaves proved to be a horrendous perfume.

It was late, she was cutting her way home and took a pass through the old park. It was unkempt and not really the safest choice, but then the promise of a bath and takeout pizza was quite motivating. She was very tired. The park was dim and gloomy, and that’s why when she saw something crawl out of the ditch and onto the path in front of her - she all but did not fully register that it was a person. Now she belatedly thought that if she really would have been more alert and less exhausted she definitely would have run. Yet at that time, it was more like a temporary brainfreeze and to the tiniest extent - her natural curiosity.

She saw the creature raise its head and as if study her for a moment and just then like a scared rabbit, it started moving its limbs quicker in a vain attempt to get away, but for some reason it couldn’t. Something was slowing the movement down and then she heard it make a tiny whiny noise and just relax, like a deflated balloon, into a heap of something completely unrecognizable. She approached it cautiously and touched with a foot something resembling an arm. There was no movement. She then bent down and rolled it over - and immediately felt blood draining from her face.

It was human, there were the eyes looking at her from behind a curtain of filthy hair, rags, dirt and wet leaves that stuck to the body. The eyes were unmoving and it seemed that that they were made of glass, because they glistened a bit like empty glass orbs, with dimming evening light dancing slowly along the surface.

She became anxious - and tried to shake the person, to return it to life, but nothing happened except as she drew her hands back, her large ring got caught with the rugs covering the chest and it opened up a sight that she couldn’t shake off. The flesh was ripped all over the place with some of the wounds held together by black threaded seams. She saw a couple of ribs poking through the flesh and then what worse right underneath her fingers she saw a region so burnt that it smelled like meat left in the sizzling frying pan for far too long. The blood, pus, charred skin and bone - it all made a putrid pallette.

She flinched back and fell on her back and breathed heavily, or so it seemed; because she, in fact, was screaming. It was in panic that she dialed police and stood there as people were hurrying to her screams. Still on the ground she searched for the person’s eyes once more, but they were gone and all that lay on the side of the wet path was just a pile of bloody rugs.


	2. Making acquaintances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To be updated further

 

 

After taking a statement, brief one, as she seemed not to have the words to describe it all, one of the officers took her to a medic. The woman checked her reflexes, pulse and then gave her a couple of pills and asked the police officer to take her home.

 

But even at home, she could not put the sight behind her. She sat there on the couch and stared blindly at the ashtray on her coffee table. Was this person still alive? Or she did really find a corpse and imagined the eyes looking at her?

She couldn’t sleep and made herself some tea and sat in the dark for a long time till morning light started creeping through the windows.

‘Hello? Hello, may I please speak to sergeant Davies, yes, Thomas Davies. He..He gave me his, ummm, name card and said I could contact him. This about yesterday.. I f-found...at the park. He- he said could call. I need..Okay, I will hold.’

‘Sergeant Davies, speaking. Hello?’

‘This is Lana, Lana Reaves…’

‘Ms. Reaves, can I help you? Did you remember something?’

‘No, I - I just wanted to know, erm to ask - is… is that person alive?’ 

‘Yes, ma'am, she is. Medics took her to the hospital.’

‘It is a woman?’

‘Yes, ma'am, quite a disturbing sight. Do you wish to add something to your statement?’

‘No, I… Which hospital is she at?’

‘Central, I was told she is in a comatose state. Poor thing.’

‘I… Thank you, officer.’

‘Have a nice day, ma'am. Please do not hesitate to call if you remember anything at all. We are... in a bit of a dead-end here.’

‘Dead-end?’

‘Yes, well...we did not find any id on her or nearby and no other witness from the park came forward with anything that they saw or heard. We did not find her prints in our db either. All I know for now is that that woman was severely tortured and you found her.’

‘Oh..’ Lana felt sick. ‘I-I will call, if I remember anything else. Thank you again.’

 

Officer Davies said something else, but she did not quite register it. It was a woman, that creature from the alleyway was a woman and she was somehow alive. This piece of news somehow did not make Lana happy, she felt that probably it would’ve been for the best if that woman actually died. Less pain. God,for the life of her, she couldn’t get those glassy eyes out of her head. She almost started dressing to go the hospital, but stopped abruptly - she did not want to face that horror again.

 

In her career as a counselling therapist she has seen some violent cases, a fair share of black eyes and abuse, but she never done counselling for rape survivors or children. This was done by another lady at their clinic and god bless her, because when Lana would grab lunch with her sometimes, she did seem a bit otherworldly, despite exceptionally cheerful demeanor. It was the look Lana sometimes saw in retired police officers, who came with their wives for marriage therapy or per court ruling, which happened even more often. The look of knowing something deeply disturbing and yet unknown.

 

Therapy required sternness of character, strength to fight not only your own demons but actually share the strength with those in need of it. In the three weeks that followed her park ‘encounter’, Lana felt she lost a big chunk of her mojo. Every session with her patients now drained her. She found herself drifting sometimes and her mind as if inadvertently drifted towards the image of that woman’s torso. 

One night to face up her fears Lana even decided to take the trip across the park again. She hoped it would help, but it didn’t. The place seemed calm and pensive as always, but when she came by the spot, she saw nothing until she moved in to look closer at the ditch: a piece of dirty cloth stuck there. It was no different in color than the dirty brown leaves that surrounded it, but on it she discerned sa patterned image of cartoon puppies. It was somehow so unexpected and disturbing that Lana felt her breath hitch. She dropped the cloth and hurried away, as if this piece of fabric could chase her. 

She was getting too apprehensive. Finally, on Friday almost 4 weeks after, she called the Central hospital. The nurse confirmed the woman was there. ‘Jane Doe’ she said was awake and, yes, she could visit if she wanted, but she would advise against it. The nurse did not elaborate why exactly, and Lana felt she needed to see herself.

 

‘She is in the room 04, Ma'am,’said the ever-tired evening shift nurse. ‘Hey, would you mind taking along her pudding, save me a trip.’ She went on and smiled tiredly.

‘Yes, sure’, Lana said absentmindedly and took the apple pudding cup and plastic spoon.

‘Thanks a bunch.’

 

The room 04 was at the end of the corridor and it had a little window, like they do at the psychiatric wards. Usually such rooms were given to suicide survivors or patients with mental conditions. She tentatively looked through the window, but saw no one on the bed. Should she call the nurse? Deciding to investigate herself,Lana pressed the door handle gently and entered the room. 

‘Hello?... Hello...My name is Lana Reaves. I..um.. stopped by to say hi. And...well…’Lana broke off as she saw a foot protruding from behind a chair in the corner of the room.

Putting down the pudding on the bedside table she slowly walked to the corner. The girl was there, wearing scrubs and bandages. Her face was black and blue and there was a number stitches on her cheek.She seemed asleep. 

Uncertain what to do, Lana sat in the chair right next to her. Without the rugs and leaves, the girl in the corner looked human. Of course the injuries stood out, but her chest was bandaged as were her arms. At the park she did not even see that she had arms. Now they were in sight and they twitched slightly. She was missing a ring finger on her left arm and blood seeped through the gauze in some places. Noticing that, Lana rose immediately intending to call in the nurse. Her chair scraped the floor and suddenly the girl was awake.

 

Lana froze as the girl shifted as quickly as she could further into the corner; her eyes were full of horror until she lowered them.

‘It’s okay, okay… No need to be afraid. I..errr..I brought you the pudding… It is apple...’ 

Lana broke off - the girl now crawled out closer to her feet and was cowering there with her hands behind her back.Her tangled hair were touching the floor.  

‘No, no, you shouldn’t… apple pudding, I, I… why don’t you get up, please…’ But she wouldn’t. Instead she lowered her head further down and Lana heard the same whiny noise from that evening at the park.

The girl’s scrubs opened up at the back, revealing more bandages and horribly bruised and cut feet. They were at a certain healing stage, but it looked like a very slow process. As she slightly moved one foot to kneel further, some of the cuts opened and more blood seeped. Lana winced.

‘Oh, my..please, you need to get up. You have injured your foot…’

Lana bent down and tried to lift the girl up. The moment her hands touched her, the girl flinched violently and tried to press her face further to the floor. 

‘Now, please, get up, get up!’ Lana raised her voice only marginally, yet the effect was undoubtedly dramatic: the girl hurriedly hasted to rise, though it was visible that movement had hurt her, yet she did not utter a single word or make a sound. Once on her feet she looked wobbly, and kept her head down. Lana felt nervous. She approached the girl and steered her to a chair. It wasn’t hard, she was very pliable, and light. Once in a chair the girl tensed considerably, her right hand clutched the fabric of her scrubs and she was still looking downward.

‘I… I will call the nurse to look at your foot. Please, stay there, okay?’

The girl gave a tiny nod and just as Lana was turning for the door, she whispered in a raspy voice: ‘Yes, Mistress.’ Lana looked around hoping she heard wrong, and then dashed out of the room.

Just as she closed the door, she closed her eyes. This was too much, too much. She shook her head, collected herself and marched to the nurse. 

‘Nurse, nurse!’ Shaking the nurse awake was not quite as easy. She was tired indeed. 

‘Whaaaat?’ She yawned. 

‘The girl, the girl in room 04, one of her wounds opened up. She needs medical attention.’

‘Oh, damn, not again… and on my shift.’She was not happy.

‘Listen, nurse..’

‘Donna, nurse Donna.’

‘Donna, I think it kind of is your damn job ...and the girl is hurt in there! So get up and help her for God’s sake!’

‘No need to yell, lady, if you spent here some more time you’d know it is not the most pleasant of tasks.’ 

Lana crossed her arms and puffed. Nurse Donna - probably sensing her temper rising finally got up and stretched.

‘No need to pout, sweetie, let’s go.’

 

When they entered the room the girl was not on the chair any more, but in the same corner again. Her hands were locked like she was cold and she shivered visibly. However, the moment she noticed them, she freezed over and hunched into a kneel.

While Lana stood baffled, Donna just hurried over and dragged her out of the corner and onto the bed. ‘Stay, don’t move!’ - she urged sternly. It again had quite an effect on the girl, who just sort of turned into a statue in the position she was put in.

Nurse Donna then hurried over to her feet; lifting each of them, she quickly examined the cuts, dabbed them in antiseptic and then put some band-aids and gauze over them. Throughout the procedure the girl remained completely silent and her eyes closed. Once done Donna collected the scraps of gauze, tutted at the blood stains in the corner the girl used to occupy and left without a word.

The sound of the door closing brought Lana back somehow and uncertain what to do next she moved the chair closer to the bed and sat there tiredly looking at nothing in particular. Her eyes drifted towards the girl who was sitting pressed against headboard. Her thin almost blue hands were folded on her knees and the stump from the missing ring finger was slightly moving. Lana looked at her face, which was now mostly curtained by tangled hair. 

‘What is your name? I’m Lana... Remember I… My name is Lana - what is yours?’She half asked and half sort of muttered to herself. ‘Do you know your name?' But the girl remained silent. 'Tell me, please! I ...I just’ Lana pressed.

 

The girl flinched and before Lana could do anything she was on the floor kneeling in front of her. The tips of her bandaged fingers were touching her shoes.

‘It’s sorry, Mistress, it has no name.’ Her voice was rusty as before and not louder than an agitated whisper.

 

Lana became completely unnerved. ‘But everybody has a name, dear, so should you.’ Lana tried to smile, though realised belatedly that the girl unlikely benefited from it, as the she had her head all the way down. 

‘You should not… erm… sit on the floor, it is not good for your injuries…’ She half stood from the chair and tried to help the girl back to her feet, but she pressed herself further to the floor. 

‘Dear, come on, get up…’ Again, once directly prompted the girl rose immediately and stood there hunched, hands nervously twitching. Though, once she realised that her hands were moving she clasped them tightly.

Treating this like a minor victory Lana proceeded and tried to take the girl back to bed, urging her kindly. Once settled, Lana herself sat on the edge of the bed and sighed. She had no idea how to deal with the situation, but mostly she doubted whether she should get herself involved at all. Clearly this was no usual case and the girl likely suffered a tremendous trauma. Lana looked back at the girl, who was sitting on the bed, but somehow looked like a bird perched on a tree branch. 

Lana tentatively placed her hand just inches away from the girl’s folded arms. ‘I’m Lana Reeves, you might not remember me, but I...ummm...I was the one who found you at the park. Do you remember the park, dear?’

The girl shook her head now, but then she hurriedly as she caught herself digressing, hit the side of her head and urgently whispered: ‘No, Mistress.’

‘Now, you shouldn’t call me ‘Mistress’, dear. I’m Lana, just Lana…’ The girl didn’t move, but tilted her head slightly, as if trying to soak in every word.

‘Remember, I asked you your name. Now you know mine - I'm Lana. What is yours?’

‘It will answer to whatever name Mistress prefers. It has not name.’

Lana felt horrible. All this ‘Mistress’ crap and still no name.

‘Dear, you should be called some name. What do people around here call you then?’

‘Girl, Mistress.’

‘Umm okay, but before, do you have any friends, family? What did they call you?’

‘It has no friends or family, Mistress.’

‘But you were around people, what did they call you?’

The girl shifted slightly, she was struggling with giving the answer.

‘Whore, bitch… cockslut, ugly, Mistress.’ She finally listed impassively.

Lana clasped her mouth with her hands. Eyes wide in horror, she knew that she should offer some comfort, some consolation, but herself she was so petrified once she slowly realised that she knew basically nothing about this girl so far - Lana was seriously doubting she knew how to handle this further.

 

 


End file.
